


can't lose what you never had

by wonderstruckxxx



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 12:13:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17080142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderstruckxxx/pseuds/wonderstruckxxx
Summary: As the sun starts to rise, Woojin lets himself cry for the love he never had but always lost.





	can't lose what you never had

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apastron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apastron/gifts).



The first thing Woojin notices when he wakes up is the throbbing pain on his left ankle,  then he realizes that a thick piece of rope binding is his hands together. The room he’s in is pitch black, and the only sounds he can hear are his labored breathing and the slight whirl of the electric fan that he feels on his left side of his body.

Despite the air coming from the fan, he can feel his sweat rolling down his back. He literally feels like he’s on fire, and it feels as if he’s suffocating from the stale, humid air in this room. 

He vaguely remembers how he ended up here. He was at the curb outside a club at Gangnam, waiting for his driver who’ll bring him to another club in Hongdae. It all happened so quickly. He enters his car, and instead of his driver, a group of masked men were inside. As soon as the car door was shut, one of the men pointed a gun at his head and covered his mouth and nose with a white cloth.

Then the rest is all hazy, and he can’t really remember how far they traveled, what time it is, and where they are. He knows how fucked he is at this point, and he wonders if his father would even bother to somehow get him out of this. Will his parents even realize he’s gone?

He waits in a silence that’s almost deafening for a number of hours, trying to figure out how to untie the rope bounding his hands together, trying to stand up and feel for a door and failing because he barely could stand.

He’s losing hope, and he could only wonder if he deserves this ending in his life. He could only assume what kind of people have taken him. And he hates how he’s sure this isn’t even about him. He’s so sure this because of his father. And he hates it so much, because his father is still hell-bent in trying to make him follow his footsteps, which he swears he’ll never do.

He finally feels the entirety of the fatigue, pain, and hunger that have been lingering, and he’s slowly losing his consciousness, until a faint pitter patter of footsteps and a hushed exchange of words grab his attention. 

“Did the boss make the call already?”

He hears one of the men say, realizing his assumptions were right all along.

“Not yet, they’re still timing the call to the chief justice, preparing what to say and ask for.”

His stomach churns at the idea of having his father being the one to get him out of this. His father, the chief justice of this country’s supreme court, one of the most hated men in this country at this point, is the reason why he’s here. And it’s not like it’s the first time.

He waits for the men to step in the room, and his eyes take a while to readjust to the bright light flitting into the room.

“You doing okay, Park?”

The question seems harmless, and maybe it is. But it makes him cower, because you never know with this kind of people. He’ll be lying if he says he isn’t scared. He is, very much so, because any wrong move could cost him his life.

They tell him to get up, and he does. They see him limp, so they hold him by the waist. He’s guided out of the room, and he’s greeted by a grand looking hallway, embellished with antique furniture and grand painting lining the hall and the walls.

“The boss wants to see you. Sorry kid, your father wronged our boss, and now you’re collateral damage.”

He gives the man a bitter smile. He wonders who their boss is. His father has put several men to jail, innocent or guilty. It sometimes didn’t matter, all that matter was who promises more behind the scenes.

That’s why he hates his father and what he does. Because he was supposed to be the man upholding the law, but he chooses to bend it anyway he likes. 

And Woojin hates it, hates the life he’s living, because he’s being so hypocritical. Because every penny his spends is from his father anyway.

He’s brought out to a veranda that oversees all green, showing how far he is currently from the city.

From where he stands, he sees a silhouette of a man.

“Park Woojin, isn’t it?” the man pauses. He gives Woojin a once-over, while Woojin tries to figure out who this guy is.

Woojin’s eyes widen when he realizes.

This man is the one on the losing side of the biggest case his father handled around two years ago. He doesn’t remember much, but he knows this was one of those cases wherein something happened under the table, and this man knew nothing about it until he ended up losing a case he was supposed to win.

This man was the CEO of one of the biggest insurance firms back then, and after losing that lawsuit, he was said to have lost everything.

Woojin hasn’t heard of him since, but judging from this, the man has built his life back again, through whatever means Woojin doesn’t want to think about.

“You know why you’re here, no?”

His tone send chills down Woojin’s spine. The man walks towards him, and Woojin wants to run, but he can’t. He’s held down by the men that brought him there.

The man’s footsteps are heavy, and as he comes closer, it’s the only thing Woojin can fixate on. The man was a few steps away from him, when the door bursts open, the sound of gunshots immediately following it. 

In a few seconds, the men holding him by the shoulder drop to the ground. Next, the man who ordered for his capture falls backward. And in a minute, every single man in the room, Woojin estimates around twelve people, except for him and the killer, is dead. 

Woojin doesn’t have it in him to turn around.

But a familiar voice immediately makes him turn anyway. 

“It’s been a while, Park Woojin.”

~~~~~~~~

 

Woojin still remembers that day quite vividly, even though it happened almost seven years ago. It was their sophomore year in high school, around a two years before his father rose to the ranks at court, a time when they lived a simpler life. 

They lived in a middle class apartment complex around Gangbuk, and he was studying at a high school nearby. It was a hot summer night, a Thursday, if he remembered correctly.

He was walking home with his best friend, on their way home from cram school. They’ve been friends since they were in elementary school, but being in the same class their freshman year in high school allowed them to become the best of friends.

He remembers it so clearly, how they stopped by a convenience store near their adjacent apartment complexes to buy a popsicle each. Woojin remembers paying for both because his best friend had no money left. He remembers how the other boy promised to pay him back the next day, because he said he didn’t like owing people money. They both got strawberry popsicles, their favorite. He remembers holding his friends hand then, for whatever reason, his heart was full, because the other made no move to let go, only holding on tighter. They walked under the moonlight. And he dropped off his friend at the lobby of their apartment building, reminding him to bring the shirt he borrowed from Woojin a few days back.

Everything was so normal, now that he thinks about it. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and it’s still odd to him how he remembers that day up to the last moment. Well, his feelings then, maybe they weren’t normal. Especially when his heart was beating too quickly at the sight of his friend’s bright smile. But at that time, he hadn’t realized what any of those things meant.

The next day, his best friend doesn’t show to school. And Woojin wondered then if he had gotten sick. Then the next day comes, and he still doesn’t show up. That’s when Woojin decides to visit their apartment instead.

Woojin remembers how confused he was when he arrived at his friend’s doorstep, only to find out that their unit was being emptied, his friend and his friend’s mother, nowhere in sight.

He wanted to ask what was happening, but instead he overheard how there was a commotion in the building two nights ago, and the mother and son disappeared as soon as it was over.

He remembers being so confused and scared for his best friend then. He remembers realizing how little he knew about his friend’s life. He only knew about his friend’s mother, since he never talked about his father. The other boy never talked about his family, when at times, it was all Woojin could talk about.

For years, he wondered what could’ve happened to his friend. It never came out in the news, and soon after it happened, no one else talked about it, aside from the questions he got from their classmates for a while until people got tired of asking. It was as if his friend and his mother never existed. His feelings then were buried by the fear and worry for his friend, and somehow, the young him knew that it was stupid to even think about his feelings for his friend, when he doesn’t even know if his friend was okay.

It’s been a long time, and he never thought he’d see him again.

Maybe he had forgotten the feelings his young self felt, maybe he hasn’t.

But there he was. His best friend. An M-16 on his shoulder, a G19 in his right hand, and a small smile on his lips.

It’s been seven years since he saw him, but he almost looks the same, except his face is much sharper and he has obviously bulken up, no trace of his skinny frame from back in high school.

And Woojin, Woojin knows can’t be wrong. Because even though it’s been years, he’s sure that this man standing in front of is the best friend that disappeared that summer night.

“Jihoon?” he says, so quietly, it’s almost a whisper.

“Right in the flesh, yeah. Long time no see, you idiot.”

Woojin can’t help but laugh, which of course could be out of place. They’re in a mansion in the middle of nowhere, in a room with more than ten dead bodies. Woojin shouldn’t be laughing.

But Jihoon is here, talking to him as if there aren’t seven years of absence that separate them.

“What the fuck are you even doing here?” he asks, because he doesn’t want to assume, that after all this time, Jihoon came here for him.

“I’m not here for you, so don’t get any ideas, Park. Let’s just say I’m doing my job, and it just so happened you’re here.” he says, as a he walks towards Woojin.

Woojin can’t help but stare, and he doesn’t even care if Jihoon notices. Because even though he seems to have toughened up, he was still so pretty.

Jihoon stops right in front of him, only a foot separating them. Jihoon gives him a once-over, and he’s quick to notice the swelling on Woojin’s ankle.

Jihoon bends down, much to Woojin’s surprise, and he places a bit of pressure on the injury on Woojin’s ankle.

Woojin jolts from the sudden pain shooting up his leg, and in an instant, Jihoon is pulling out a piece of cloth and wrapping it around his ankle.

Woojin watches as Jihoon takes care of his injury with ease, and he wonders what could’ve happened to Jihoon all this time.

Jihoon stands as soon as he finished. He surprises Woojin by taking his hand, and saying, “Let’s get out of here.”

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Woojin can’t help but feel a bit of deja vu as they navigate out of the mansion hand in hand. It’s feels so familiar, and it’s helping him fight back the fear that he’s been feeling since he woke up in that dark room he was placed in.

It still feels like a dream, having Jihoon right here beside him. But this isn’t one. And Jihoon tells him they’re hours away from Seoul. The nearest bus terminal is a 3-hour walk away.

“Are you sure you can walk? It’s going to be a while, Woojin.”

His heart skips a beat at the tenderness of Jihoon’s voice, but he know he’d be an idiot to be affected by any of it. 

At this point, he should be asking the one thing that’s been bugging him all these years. 

“I can walk. It hurts, but I can do it.”

Jihoon nods, finally letting go of his hand. Jihoon has an earpiece in his hand, and he told Woojin earlier that he could ask for help, but there’s a frequency jammer around the area, and it seems like the jammer broke the device. Jihoon had a burner phone, but they’d have to walk quite a while for it to get any signal at all.

They start walking away from the mansion, an awkward silence between the two of them.

He wants to ask. But he doesn’t know if he’s ready for the answers he could be getting.

“That look on your face,” Jihoon starts, startling him out of his deep thoughts.

“You look like you want to ask me something,” he continues, their eyes meet, and Woojin finally decides that it’s better for him to know the truth than to continue on wondering.

“What happened, Jihoon-ah? Where did you go?”

Jihoon gives him a smile, the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and Woojin can’t help but feel a tightness in his chest. He’s cried a lot before, whenever he’d get nightmares about Jihoon, whenever he’d remember that he knows nothing about his best friend’s whereabouts and well-being.

“You know, my mom always told me my dad was dead. So that’s what I believed for the longest time,” Jihoon says, his right hand finding its way back to Woojin’s left. 

“He wasn’t. Remember that night? The night you held my hand on the way home?”

Woojin nods, his vision blurring with tears from the sudden rush of emotions.

“That night, a group of men barged into our apartment, trying to take us away, then another group came, and my dad was there.” Jihoon continues, his grip on Woojin’s hand only getting tighter.

“I didn’t understand at first, but one of my dad’s enemies had found out he had a family, and tried to take us to use against him. But he was there to save us, I guess. Then later I found out, my dad was part of a group of assassins. He took us in. But at that point, I didn’t think I had a choice, because I never wanted to feel like I’m in danger again. So even though my parents didn’t want me to, I was soon learning how to use different kinds of guns, and years later, here I am.” 

Woojin is overwhelmed from everything Jihoon just told him. But this is Jihoon’s truth, and he isn’t stupid not to realize what kind of life his friend has chosen to live.

Jihoon has forgone the chance of living a normal life.

They take their time. No one speaks as they walk through the greenery for hours, the entire time all Woojin could see were trees and plants, no other signs of people insight.

He takes this time to think. To take in what had just happened to him. He allows himself to be afraid finally. He cries quietly, while Jihoon rubs circles into his palm.

They walk for hours, until they’re a few steps away from a bus stop and Jihoon’s burner phone starts working. Jihoon types in a message, and they continue to walk closer.

Jihoon stops walking, and he takes both of Woojin’s hands in his.

“I’m sorry I never tried to contact you. I just didn’t want you to be connected to me, because that means I’d put you in danger.”

Woojin looks at their hands, wondering if this is the proper goodbye he had always dreamt of.

Jihoon let’s go of one of his hands to reach for one of his pockets.

Jihoon hands him a transportation card.

“Go home, Woojin-ah.”

That’s when the tears start falling from his eyes again, realizing what this meant for them.

Jihoon pulls him in for a hug, and Woojin pulls him in tighter even though it hurt.

Jihoon lets go, and as soon as he does, a black van drives quickly towards them. Jihoon gives him one last smile, before he dashes towards the van, leaving Woojin there at the bus stop.

Woojin holds the card tightly, holds it to his chest.

And as the sun starts to rise, he lets himself cry for the love he never had but always lost.

  


**Author's Note:**

> to the recipient of this fic, I hope I did your prompt justice, even though I feel like I wasn't able to :c thank you for the chance to write something i didn't think i'd be able to!!!
> 
> to anyone reading this, thank you so much for taking time to do so!


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